plath ressurect

My inner life is nothing but fragments, shards of glass, funhouse mirrors. I’ll tell you in a letter what I want you to hear, what I wish were the facts. The facts. How different than truth, truth is in the mouth of the teller, the mind of the beholder, truth is flesh. Facts are stone. Alas, I a split between… Continue reading plath ressurect

how do you think it fucking feels?

."My day to day life is this tumultuous battle against my very self. And regardless of however poetically I could ever piece this together, even if I were clinical or more narrative it is almost a total waste, a dead end."